Chapter 10 - THE MAN WHO CLAIMED TO BE MY FATHER
My father was not my father.
At least, that was what the settlement suggested.
I sat in Eleanor’s office reading the document while the words refused to become real.
Jonathan Pierce acknowledged the possibility that he was my biological father.
Thomas Ward—my grandfather—paid him nothing.
Jonathan paid Grandpa.
That made even less sense.
“Why would he pay money to give up parental rights?” Chloe asked.
Eleanor shook her head.
“This isn’t a normal parental settlement.”
The agreement contained confidentiality provisions.
Business provisions.
Property rights.
And one sentence repeated three times:
No claim shall be made against Ward Technologies, its patents, successor entities, or beneficiary interests through the child known as Maya Grace Ellison.
I stared.
“This is about money.”
Marcus nodded.
“Possibly ownership.”
Jonathan Pierce may not simply have been my mother’s former lover.
He may have had a business claim connected to Ward Technologies.
If I was his daughter, he could potentially argue that assets placed in my name were connected to his interests.
Grandpa had apparently paid—or structured—a settlement to eliminate that risk.
“Where is Jonathan now?” I asked.
Eleanor searched.
The answer came quickly.
Alive.
Fifty-nine.
Living outside Denver.
Founder of Pierce Robotics.
My stomach dropped.
Pierce Robotics was one of Novatek’s largest strategic suppliers.
The company where I worked had done business with him for years.
I had been in meetings where his name appeared on slides.
I had never met him.
Or at least I didn’t think I had.
“This family really loves hiding people inside my professional life,” I whispered.
Chloe almost laughed.
Nobody else did.
Then Marcus opened another record.
“There’s a new problem.”
“What?”
“Jonathan Pierce bought shares in Ward Technologies eighteen months ago.”
“How?”
“From Linda.”
My mother.
She had sold a portion of family voting rights to the man who might be my biological father.
“Did she have authority?”
“Possibly through the twenty-five-percent family holding structure.”
“How much did he pay?”
“$1.2 million.”
I stared.
“Where is the money?”
Nobody answered.
We all knew the audit would tell us eventually.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown Colorado number.
I looked at Eleanor.
She nodded.
I answered.
“Maya.”
Male voice.
Calm.
Older.
I stopped breathing.
“Jonathan?”
A pause.
“So Linda finally told you.”
“No.”
That seemed to surprise him.
“She disappeared.”
Silence.
Then:
“That’s bad.”
“Why?”
“Because Linda only runs when she thinks somebody is about to prove something.”
I gripped the phone.
“Are you my father?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“I believed I was for thirty-three years.”
Chloe covered her mouth.
“What does that mean?”
“Your mother told me you were mine.”
“And the settlement?”
“Thomas didn’t pay me to disappear.”
“You paid him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
I laughed bitterly.
Everybody in this story seemed to protect me by lying.
“From what?”
“From my business partners.”
“What business partners?”
“Ward Technologies wasn’t just your grandfather’s.”
My pulse changed.
“Whose was it?”
“Mine. Thomas’s. And one other man’s.”
“Who?”
Jonathan went quiet.
“Maya, before I answer, I need to know something.”
“What?”
“Did your mother take the black ledger?”
I looked at Eleanor.
Another ledger.
Another secret.
“What black ledger?”
Jonathan cursed softly.
“Then she has it.”
“What is it?”
“The original ownership record.”
“Of Ward Technologies?”
“Yes.”
“What does it prove?”
“That the trust may not own the percentage everyone thinks it owns.”
My chest tightened.
“How much does it own?”
“That depends on who your father is.”
I stood.
“Stop talking in circles.”
Jonathan exhaled.
“Take a DNA test.”
“Fine.”
“Not with Robert.”
My mouth went dry.
“With who?”
“Me.”
He paused.
“And David.”
My uncle.
Chloe stared at me.
“Why David?”
Jonathan’s answer changed everything again.
“Because Linda was involved with both of us around the time you were conceived.”
The room went silent.
I could barely speak.
“My mother slept with her own brother?”
Jonathan immediately said:
“No.”
I closed my eyes in relief and confusion.
“Then David isn’t her brother?”
Another silence.
Jonathan whispered:
“That is the part she never told you.”
“What part?”
“David Ward is not Linda’s brother.”
I stared at Eleanor.
She looked just as shocked.
“Then who is he?”
Jonathan’s voice became very quiet.
“Thomas Ward’s business partner’s son.”
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
My mother had lied about David being family.
Why?
Jonathan continued.
“If David is your biological father, the controlling interest in Ward Technologies belongs to you under a different succession clause.”
“How much?”
“Fifty-one percent.”
My heartbeat slammed.
“And if you’re my father?”
“Then it’s forty percent.”
“And if Robert is?”
“Then your current structure stands.”
Three possible fathers.
Three different ownership outcomes.
My mother had spent my entire life hiding the answer.
Before I could speak, Eleanor’s assistant rushed into the office.
“Maya.”
Her face was pale.
“What?”
“Your mother just filed something with the court.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A petition to suspend the trust audit.”
“On what grounds?”
She handed Eleanor the electronic filing.
The first page contained my name.
The second contained medical language.
The third made me laugh from disbelief.
My mother was claiming I had become mentally unstable after the family conflict and was incapable of managing complex assets.
Chloe whispered:
“She’s trying to take control back.”
Eleanor kept reading.
Then stopped.
“What?”
She turned the page toward me.
Attached was an affidavit from a psychiatrist.
A man I recognized.
Not personally.
Professionally.
Dr. Michael Grant.
Novatek’s corporate wellness director.
He claimed he had evaluated me twice.
I had never met him.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One photograph appeared.
My mother standing beside Dr. Grant outside a courthouse.
Another message followed.
SHE’S NOT TRYING TO GET THE MONEY BACK.
A second:
SHE’S TRYING TO STOP THE DNA TEST.
Then a third:
ASK YOUR MOTHER WHAT HAPPENED IN THE HOSPITAL THE NIGHT YOU WERE BORN.
I stared at the screen.
Jonathan was still on the call.
“Who is texting me?”
“It isn’t me.”
Across the room, Chloe’s phone began ringing.
She looked at the display and went completely white.
“Who?” I asked.
She turned the screen toward me.
MOM.
I answered it from her phone.
“Mom?”
No response.
Then I heard breathing.
A man’s voice spoke.
Not Jonathan.
Not Dad.
Not David.
“Maya?”
My blood went cold.
“Who is this?”
The man laughed softly.
“Your mother should have told you about me before she ran.”
“Who are you?”
A pause.
Then:
“The third man who founded Ward Technologies.”
My grip tightened.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing from you.”
Another pause.
“Yet.”
Then he said:
“But before you take that DNA test, you should know one thing.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“If the hospital records are real…”
His voice dropped.
May you like
“…none of those three men is your father.”
The call ended.
